The Love Letter redux
by Antaprate
Summary: A rewriting of "The Love Letter" by NiteFang. Rated T for brief mentions of abortion, rape, and incest. Will remove it if NF requests.


_The original of this story does not belong to me. It belongs to NiteFang._

_I very much liked the overall message NiteFang put into their piece, but it was difficult to imagine it coming from God given the modern dialogue. So I decided to rewrite it with a more...well...archaic pattern of speech, while still keeping the same message. And the abortion paragraph is rather different than the original, and includes a good deal of material original to me._

_So. Story belongs to NiteFang, phrasing and some new material belong to me. The original story has somehow vanished twice, but had the IDs 7014023 and 7027027._

_NiteFang: I know I did this without your permission. If you want me to take it down, simply review and tell me and I will gladly do so immediately._

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><p>x<p>

x

x

.

I love you.

I shall begin with that.

By now, of course, you already know I do, or you ought to know.

In the improbable event that you did not, you have now been told:

I love you.

I have loved you for as long as you can remember, for longer than you can remember. At this very moment, as you consider this, I can tell you truly that you will never, ever be able to understand the depth of my love for you.

In your life, your travels, your schooling, I find it probable that you have at some point heard of John 3:16. Most likely, you have never carefully thought through that verse. Permit me, my child, to tell you it once more.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, so that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life."

I gave up my Son.

I gave up my one and only Son, and you have taken that for granted. You take it for granted this very moment.

What I wish to know is, why do you do so?

You may think to yourself, "What's the big deal—He gave up His Son? So? He didn't give up His own life. Why is that so significant? Why is that verse, like, the cornerstone of Christianity itself?"

It can be said that the worst form of torture is watching someone you love suffer when you are powerless to aid them. Someone you love with all your heart and soul is being hurt and killed…and there is nothing you can do about it.

Imagine that. Imagine seeing your child—your only child—be tortured before your eyes. It is the worst pain imaginable, because _you cannot do anything_.

I gave up my child—my Son.

I had to watch him suffer the worst kinds of pain.

That is why that verse is so important, so significant. I loved you enough to sacrifice my very own Son, that your souls might be saved. I could not give up myself—I had to give up _Him_.

And all of it, His suffering and mine...you now make it all for naught, because you refuse to listen to me.

I am here. I am now. Open your eyes and see me.

Can you hear me?

I am right here beside you, loving you, always waiting for you to love me back. But you are too busy loving them—the one you call "boyfriend" or "girlfriend." You have elevated them to a pedestal, and hidden me in storage. After everything that I have done for you, all you think of is your bad times, and how I "abandoned" you.

I have never, ever abandoned you. I am always here. I have always been here, but when the first unfortunate thing happens, you ignored me. You would not trust me, you even refused to listen to me.

Was it because you were too occupied screaming at me in anger because I had "left" you? Was that why you would not listen? I have never left you. Have you forgotten that I am omnipresent? I am always with you, whether you wish me to be there or not.

When they broke your heart, you tried so hard to find someone to replenish that love and mend the shattered pieces, when I am right here. I have always been here, and yet you continue to ignore me, to pass over me. I love you more than that. I never say the words, then take them back.

Why do you do this?

Why do you break my heart?

I desire to be with you, yet you constantly reject me. You have even tried to remove me from your recorded history. Do you think that because I am the Almighty ruler of creation, I am unable to feel rejection? Pain? Sorrow? Do you believe that I am forever full of vengeance and fury? That I am always full of punishment and impartiality?

I am not.

Were I thus, I would not be here, writing this love letter to you.

That is what this is, after all: a love letter. A love letter pleading with you to love me back. That is what I wish—that you would love me. That you would think twice about hurting yourself, for when you do, you hurt others, and me as well.

I want desperately that you should no longer hurt. Do you think I enjoy it when disasters occur? Do you believe that I am sadistic, that I enjoy my children's pain? No, I weep for them. I weep when one of my children takes their own life, or when they foolishly, blindly take another's. I gave you Life. It was a gift.

Yet you waste my gift, because you wish to "live." I beg you to re-examine your definition. The fights you partake in without thought, the toxins you abuse without care, the alcohol you drink without temperance—that is not living. It matters not whether you be a youth of seventeen years, or an adult of half a century. Be mindful of my gift. Do not take advantage of it, for just as I gave it, I am able to take it back. My action may not even be large, for you have done nearly all the work yourselves.

I gave you Life, but I did not promise you the next day.

I gave you the world, but you have disfigured it.

I gave you another chance, but you refused to learn from your past mistakes.

Now I give you my heart. I ask only that you not break it, for I am weary.

I am weary of being rejected.

I am weary of my children writing books about me, claiming that I do not exist. Children, I do. You believe that the universe was created from a "big bang," but I was the one who ordered that bang. Look around you. Look outside, at the gardens and forests and oceans at the animals and yourself. How can you believe any of them were created at random? No, I made you, and I proclaimed it was good. It matters not if you dislike your nose, or your eyes, or your hair, or any of your outward features—I love them. I made them for you, because I love you. Yet you have become shallow. You do not accept that my love is enough for you.

I am weary of creating new children, only to have them returned to me. You refuse to give them even the smallest chance at life. Sometimes I even wonder if I should have created man with free will, when you abuse it so much. You used to believe abortion was acceptable in cases where the life of the mother was at stake. Now you attempt to change it to the "health" of the mother, without specifically defining what that "health" means. It is not enough; you twist "health at stake" to mean possible mental harm as well as certain physical harm, and prescribe abortion at the drop of a hat without proper examination or realistic observation. Your doctors refuse to tell the women the psychological effects that will follow, the overwhelming grief and guilt. How can you be so dishonest and unjust? It is a grave wrong. You use artificial means to attempt to prevent conception, sometimes even using means that abort the just-formed child. I gave you the gift of sex that you may come closer to your spouse and to bring children into the world, not that you may treat it as a mere pastime and prevent or destroy life. You attempt to justify abortion in cases of rape or incest. Why? The circumstances of the child's conception do not change the fact that it is a child, and killing that child will not atone for the wrong done to the mother. Nor will it alleviate her pain. You cannot right a wrong by committing another wrong. You always have options other than killing—keeping the child and adoption are the most common. Your loudly proclaimed phrase "pro-choice," with which you attempt to paint abortion in a positive light, is only a euphemism for "pro-death" and "pro-murder." For that is what it is. That child—no matter how tiny, no matter what stage of development—is alive.

I am weary of the destruction of love. The Bible has told you that "God created Man in his own image. In the image of God he created him; male and female he created them." I created you thus for a reason, my children. You were made to complement each other, and to create children through your love. All else is an abomination; this I have said. How clear must I make myself before you will accept my words?

I have told you these things again and again. I have tried everything I can to reach you, for I will always refuse to use force—that would negate my purpose of giving you free will. But hearken well: there shall come a point at which you may no longer change your mind. When you die, there will be no turning back. At that point your choice will have been made, and you must face the consequences, whether they be good or bad.

I implore you to choose me.

I love you, and I implore you to choose to love me back.

In this world of fear and darkness, I am the only one who can give you true light, comfort, and hope. Listen to me. Look at me. Trust me. Believe me.

And if you choose to love me back, you must love me with all your heart. There can be no halves in this relationship. It is all or nothing, yes or no.

Whatever your choice, I will always love you, far longer than forever.

So, my child, I offer you my hand.

Will you take it?

_God_

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x

x

x

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><p>And there it is. But if NiteFang wants me to take it off, I will.<p> 


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